


Moments Like These

by charmed310



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1430464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed310/pseuds/charmed310
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For years Draco and Harry have met twice a month in posh Muggle hotels to engage in a little extra-marital fun, no strings attached. Things take a turn when Draco admits his true feelings for Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments Like These

**Author's Note:**

> As a last minute sign-up, this turned into one of the longest fest fics I’ve ever written which was scary. **vaysh** , you have been so wonderful. Thanks for the time and support when I needed it, and thanks for the prompt! I tried to work in a little bit of Al/Scorp but it turned into more of a briefly mentioned bromance. Harry and Draco insisted on being the stars of the show. **hogwartshoney** , thank you for holding my hands and being the best beta/cheerleader ever, with endless love and gratitude.

The note arrived very quietly and secretly on his desk, saying very simply: _One more hour. Can’t wait. H._

Draco Malfoy sat back in his chair and stretched, then checked his watch. With a slight grin on his face, he picked up his wand and quickly tidied his office before putting out the lamps and locking the door behind him. It was the end of the fourth Friday of the month - one of Draco’s favourite days, his second being the first or sometimes third Tuesday or Wednesday - but always the fourth Friday. He said goodbye to his co-Healers at St Mungo’s where he was the Head of Magical Accidents and Trauma, and Disapparated once he’d cleared reception.

Upon arriving home, Draco removed his Healer robes and pulled on a pair of Muggle suit trousers, shirt and tie before shrugging into the jacket. He took off his usual watch that his parents had given him on his seventeenth birthday. It was a beautiful piece, with celestial images on the face that changed smoothly every hour, inlaid with tiny chips of emeralds and diamonds, the hands made of pure silver. Draco dug into his jewellery drawer and selected a TAG Heuer that was much less ostentatious. He’d bought it on a whim while in Switzerland on a skiing trip with his family two years prior and enjoyed wearing it when moonlighting as a Muggle twice a month. Finally, he switched his money bag for a slim black leather wallet, carrying only cash and his Muggle driver’s licence.

Pausing to scribble a quick note to his wife that he would be home very late (a common occurrence in his line of work) he signed it with love before he Apparated back out again. Draco emerged from a dark alley in Central London near Oxford Street. He joined the throng of people, slipping in unnoticed. Relief flooded him that everything had gone so smoothly. It didn’t always, and he’d often had to swallow bitter disappointment, but what did he expect when he was a Healer and his lover was Head of the Aurors?

As usual, Draco got to their hotel first. He handled the transaction in cash, tipped the staff, and took Harry’s key with him to slip into the leaves of one of the potted plants in the foyer. The security cameras were magically disabled with a Freezing Charm before Draco entered the corridor that led to the suite, and unfrozen once he had entered the room. Harry would do the same when he arrived.

Upon entering the suite, beautifully appointed in light and dark earth tones, Draco checked both magically and manually that no one was there. Harry was still very much a public figure, and even though they took every precaution to be discreet, one never knew who could see, and worse, who would talk. 

Draco stripped off his clothing and his wedding ring, and after carefully placing them in the wardrobe and safe respectively, he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He loved for Harry to come and ‘catch him by surprise’. Soon, steam had filled the room and fogged the mirrors and the glass doors of the shower. Draco stepped in and allowed the hot water to wash over him, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. Above the gentle roar of the water, he could hear the sound of the door closing and his heart rate sped up. He tried very hard to control himself, and to act cool. After so many years of meeting Harry for sex, the novelty hadn’t worn off for him. Truth be told, he hadn’t had sex with Astoria in months. His thoughts, his desires and his dreams all contained Harry. 

Draco took a deep breath and waited, body tingling under the hot spray of water. He heard the door to the bathroom open and, wiping his face, Draco looked up to see his lover standing in the bathroom, a crooked smile at his lips as he watched. 

‘Hello,’ Draco said.

‘Hello. Shall I join you in there? I’m feeling a bit lonely.’

‘God forbid Harry Potter ever feels lonely.’

Harry stuck his tongue out and began to remove his clothing, leaving it discarded in a pile on the floor, his glasses on the counter.

Draco had a good look at him, noting each scar, each flaw in the pale skin that he had memorised. Harry’s body was still slight, but well-toned from the physical demands of his job as an Auror, and weekend Quidditch games with the boys. God, he wished he could see Harry naked every day.

Harry ducked his head under the spray of the shower, and Draco let him, just for a moment, before sliding a hand behind his neck and pulling him forward to kiss him. He tasted of toothpaste which didn’t altogether hide the garlic in whatever he’d eaten before, but Draco didn’t care. He pressed his body against Harry’s, nudging his cock along the skin over his hip. Harry’s hands slid around Draco’s waist, his fingers digging in to his back when Draco closed his lips over his neck, just behind his ear. 

‘I’m so hard for you,’ he whispered, taking one of Harry’s hands and placing it over his erection. 

Draco hissed a breath between his teeth as Harry obliged him and slowly rubbed up and down his length, stroking his thumb around the head. He took Harry’s chin in his hand, forcing his head up so he could kiss him again. He took a step forward, pinning Harry against the glass of the shower stall, ignoring his moan of discomfort at the cold glass against his back. Draco moved his hips back and forth, enjoying the slickness of his pre-come over his cock in Harry’s hand. He knew he wouldn’t last long like this, and even though they had all night, he wanted to fuck Harry _now_. Ceasing his kissing, he looked at Harry and gently pulled at his waist, encouraging him to turn around. 

Harry did; with his hands now up against the glass, he smiled softly at Draco and cocked his arse back. 

Draco got slowly to his knees, his hands still at Harry’s waist while the water from the shower beat down on his back. He slid his fingertips down the rounded flesh of Harry’s arse, smiling when his lover shuddered, and spread his cheeks apart. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his tailbone before dragging his tongue down and over his arsehole. His cock twitched at Harry’s moan of pleasure, and he continued to lick, pressing the tip of his tongue inside to loosen him. 

Getting to his feet, Draco pressed himself against Harry, wrapping his left arm around him while he busied his right hand with Harry’s arsehole again. Harry turned his head slightly and glanced at Draco from under his wet hair, his eyes dark with arousal. Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s shoulder, breathing him in as he moaned at the first wet slide of Draco’s fingers. 

‘Draco, please,’ he muttered.

‘Already?’ Draco nipped at the skin on his neck, his own hips rocking forward, sliding his cock over the divide of Harry’s cheeks.

Harry nodded and it was all the encouragement Draco needed. He slowly removed his fingers which had been gently tickling Harry’s sweet-spot and took his cock in his hand and lined himself up. 

‘Oh, God,’ Harry muttered when Draco pushed into him, his body arching forward. 

Draco moved with him, holding him close, reaching around for his prick, stroking him hard and fast, feeling the familiar ridges beneath his fingers. He fucked Harry harder, pushing himself further and further, pressing Harry against the wall; his knuckles rubbing against the glass, Harry’s moans loud above the sounds of the water. 

He pulled on Harry’s length, resting his chin on his shoulder so he could see. Harry leaned back against him, joining his hand with Draco’s to increase the pace, his moans becoming more wanton as his spread his legs wider apart. Draco turned his head, sucking on Harry’s neck, his eyes still on their hands and Harry’s cock. His orgasm began to bloom from his chest, curling down to his navel, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he came, his lips at Harry’s ear groaning his completion. It always undid Harry to hear him, and sure enough, he felt Harry’s cock swell and--

‘ _Fuck_!’ 

Draco opened his eyes just in time to see the thick spurts decorate the foggy glass of the shower. 

Harry leaned heavily against him, shaking as his cock softened in their hands. He turned in Draco’s arms and kissed him slowly, and Draco’s heart ached with want. He wished they could do this every day for the rest of their lives.

But they had agreed; years ago they had agreed that this was just for fun. They both had a secret itch to scratch, and despite actually liking each other, they both had families to look after and reputations to keep. 

With a suppressed sigh, Draco turned his lips upwards in a smile and playfully splashed Harry with water before picking up the soap and beginning to wash.

It was one in the morning when Draco woke and reached for Harry across the bed, stroking his fingers up and down his arm very softly so as not to wake him but wanting to touch him all the same. It got harder and harder each time they had to say goodbye. Draco was beginning to loathe Saturday mornings in a way he never thought possible. He loved his family, especially his son Scorpius, more than anything, but there was something in him that Harry had awakened, something that he couldn’t and _wouldn’t_ let go.

‘I love you,’ he whispered, so softly that he knew Harry couldn’t hear but it felt good to say it out loud. Part of him wondered whether he wanted Harry to hear him, and maybe they might be able to figure something out, but he knew Harry. He would _never_ leave his family, and Draco was sure Harry didn’t feel the same way about him. It was no use.

Draco wrapped his arm around Harry’s still form and kissed his cheek softly. He lay with Harry for a few more minutes before it was time to go, and he always left first.

-.-

Harry resolutely kept his eyes closed and his body relaxed, feeling shaky all over despite still lying down - it took everything he had not to react at all.

What the _fuck_ had he just heard? 

Harry stayed still until Draco had gotten out of bed and went to gather his things from the wardrobe, still believing that Harry was asleep. He waited until he heard the door to the bathroom click closed and sat up, staring unseeingly at the carpet. What he should say? Should get his clothes and just leave? 

_Bugger._ His clothes were still in the bathroom. Besides which, did he really want to let Draco know that he heard?

Harry didn’t know what to do. For eight years he’d trained himself to believe that there was nothing between them, that this was all going according to plan. They had _agreed_ for Christ’s sake! They weren’t supposed to have feelings for each other - they were hardly even supposed to like each other! 

Yet somehow they did.

_Shit._

Harry buried his face in his hands. They were fucking for _fun_. They had families and their careers to think about. What did Draco Malfoy think he was playing at? 

The door to the bathroom opened and Harry looked up as Draco emerged, dressed in his Muggle suit, looking so handsome that Harry had difficulty processing anything for a few moments. 

‘Sorry if I woke you,’ Draco said, sitting next to him on the bed, a soft hand at his back.

‘It’s okay,’ Harry replied quietly. He didn’t know how to act now, his body tense. Draco leaned over to kiss him and, like an idiot, Harry panicked.

‘Really need the loo,’ he said (squeaked, if he were really honest), and after practically falling out of the bed he hurried to the bathroom. 

Breathing hard, Harry leaned over the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

‘Shit, shit, _shit_ ,’ he muttered. He turned and found his clothes hanging on the back of the door. Draco must have picked them up for him. He could leave. He could dress and Apparate home and never see Draco again. He didn’t owe him an explanation - he didn’t owe him anything.

But Harry Potter was no coward. He would at the very least say goodbye. He put his clothes on and schooled his features into what he hoped was a relaxed and happy expression, and went back into the bedroom to collect the rest of his belongings. 

Draco was waiting for him.

‘Until next time,’ he said, grinning at Harry before pulling him in for a last kiss.

Harry responded as best he could despite his uneasiness at how _normal_ Draco was being. 

A desperate thought occurred to him: _Maybe you imagined it._ Draco certainly wasn’t acting as if anything were wrong with what he had (or had not) said. Yes, Harry had probably dreamt it, or heard Draco wrong. It was the middle of the night after all, and Harry was tired. 

As usual, Draco left the suite first. Harry waited the ten minutes by pacing up and down the room. He hoped that he was right, and Draco hadn’t said ‘I love you’ to him. He should have confronted him; he should have reared up in bed and demanded that Draco repeat what he had said. He should have…

‘Fuck.’

Unable to bear the thought any longer, Harry left the hotel room, casting an _Evanesco_ on his key card, and once he was out on the deserted street, he melted into the shadows and Apparated home.

As usual, Harry got home to a quiet and dark house. The children were all at school until the Easter holidays. He went up to his bedroom where Ginny lay sleeping and quietly undressed before getting into bed with her. She murmured sleepily and rolled towards him, draping an arm over his chest where less than an hour ago, Draco had wrapped his own arm, hard and almost possessive, over Harry.

…Before he whispered the three least likely words Harry had ever thought would come out of his mouth.

He couldn’t do this. 

Lifting Ginny’s arm gently off his chest, he slid out from beneath the sheets and left the room. Harry tiptoed quietly down the corridor to James’ bedroom which was the furthest away from his and Ginny’s. He curled up under the clean blue sheets, utterly exhausted, though sleep only came to him when the birds began to sing and the cool greenish light of dawn peeked through the curtains.

-.-

The note read simply, ‘ _Your turn._ ’

‘Fuck,’ Harry muttered. 

It was the second Monday of the month, and Harry’s turn to make hotel arrangements as per their agreement. 

Harry had spent hours and hours replaying the memory in his mind, and it was only until he got his hands on a Pensieve (a very tricky artifact to acquire even when one was the Head Auror - it had taken every ounce of charm he had to wheedle one out of the blokes in the Department of Mysteries, signing his very life away that it was only for personal use) that he could see for himself that Draco had in fact whispered ‘I love you’ to Harry.

He’d returned the Pensieve the very next day, quite unable to look the Unspeakables who took it from him in the eye, sure that they would be able to use Legilimency with such skill that he wouldn’t even know it was happening and find him out.

Now, faced with Draco’s latest request to meet, Harry was even less inclined to see him, worried that he would let on that he knew.

But he had to go. The refusal would encourage questions, and questions made Harry very nervous.

Harry picked up his quill and scribbled the name of the hotel he’d picked out (before all this mess) and Wednesday’s date. Then, he stepped out of the Ministry and snuck away to the back of a Muggle pub across the road and got on his mobile to confirm the booking. 

‘What the fuck are you doing, Harry?’ he asked himself.

On the way to the hotel, Harry was resolute in not thinking about what he might say if he thought too hard, and instead focused on every ridiculously erotic thing he and Draco had done together over the years, starting with the first rim job Draco gave him their first time together in bed. Harry would never forget _that_. By the time he arrived, he was so hard and horny, he could hardly say hello before grabbing the blond man by the fussy silk tie he wore and snogging him breathless.

‘Harry, what’s -?’

‘Shut up and shag me,’ Harry growled.

Before too long, Harry lay naked on his front as Draco slipped his wet fingers between his legs, stroking his arsehole, spreading him open. Harry could feel his cock, heavy and leaking across the back of his thigh, and he forgot about everything. They were both panting, clothing strewn every which way.

Draco fucked him so deeply that night, so hard, Harry could barely even make a noise when he came, wetting the crisp bed linens. 

Draco turned Harry’s head and kissed him slowly and intensely, and Harry’s heart sank a little. 

He waited for Draco to drift off to sleep before getting out of bed and wrapping himself in the thick white robe the hotel provided and pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the mini bar. He was determined not to fall asleep with Draco anymore. He couldn’t face being blindsided again. Drinking whiskey, however, he was more than capable of doing.

He let his mind wander as he watched Draco sleep, peaceful and quiet.

Harry had seen his fair share of trauma inside of St Mungo's, so much so he had been a very generous anonymous sponsor of the remodelling of the hospital. The rickety staircases had been replaced, the walls all re-painted, and the portraits of past Healers and patients had been restored like new. If Harry was going to be spending that much time in there, it might as well be up to standard. 

Draco had almost always been on call when Harry had been in for treatment or else escorting another Auror or victim, and he'd admit only to himself that he'd spent more time than was strictly gentlemanly checking out his arse, his arms, his face, even his hair. Harry was a family man by choice, but he definitely had the hots for tall blond men like Draco Malfoy. He didn’t go out of his way, but he was fairly sure that Draco noticed.

The affair began eight years before following a very chance encounter at a New Year's Eve party thrown by one of Ginny’s Harpies mates, who Draco had treated for several months after a bad broom crash when he’d been doing his rotation in Artifact Accidents. 

It was his and Ginny’s first proper night out since Lily had been born, and Harry had got very drunk well before midnight. Unwilling to make Ginny leave early, Harry had stepped out onto the balcony of the enormous house in Mayfair to try and sober up, and found Draco Malfoy there alone and smoking a cigarette.

Harry had blushed, and they awkwardly began to talk. Before long, his tongue loosened by the whiskey he’d been drinking all night, Harry admitted his very secret and not altogether wholesome attraction to men, in particular blond men who looked an awful lot like Draco Malfoy _to_ Draco Malfoy. 

‘I wouldn’t classify myself as gay, but I’m definitely interested,’ Harry said, aware that he was still slurring.

Instead of laughing, or running away, Draco had taken Harry by the arms, and very carefully and very slowly treated Harry to his second first kiss. Inside, the countdown to midnight had begun.

‘Our wives are probably waiting for us,’ Harry said stupidly when Draco let him go. 

Draco had just laughed and went back into the party.

Harry found Ginny amidst her friends, and with a little hesitation, kissed her at midnight, his cock still hard from before.

The next day, hungover and miserable, trying to feed all three of his children breakfast while Ginny slept in (his punishment for getting too drunk to shag her when they got home), Harry was startled to receive an owl from Draco.

_If you’re still interested, I’ll be at the Red Lion tomorrow for lunch._

Intrigued, Harry replied back, ‘ _Yes._ ’

They’d agreed to meet after Harry finished work the following Friday at a Muggle hotel of Draco’s choosing. 

‘We should probably have a contract of sorts,’ Draco said, ‘to keep things discreet.’

‘Terms?’ Harry asked as he removed his shirt.

‘Always a fine Muggle establishment such as this. Paid for in cash only.’

‘Now we sound like prostitutes.’

‘Once a month?’ Draco had pushed Harry to lie on his back on the bed, long fingers skating over his naked chest.

‘Twice,’ Harry gasped.

‘And absolutely _no_ strings attached. We fuck for fun, that’s it.’

‘Absolutely,’ agreed Harry. He moaned as Draco’s lips and tongue traced the path of his fingers.

‘And if, in the very unlikely event, one of us is found out?’ Draco asked.

‘Deny, deny, deny.’

It became even easier when Ginny started her new job as Senior Quidditch reporter for the _Prophet_ and had to attend games all over the country, especially at the weekend. Then, the kids went off to Hogwarts - even Albus and Scorpius had become friends at school, affording Harry every opportunity to continue meeting up with Draco at King’s Cross and during the holidays when the children were home. He hated using his son as an excuse, but no one was ever hurt. It was working out brilliantly for them; everything was balanced.

Until Draco fucked it all up by opening his mouth at the wrong time. 

Harry finished his whiskey and took another long look at Draco, still sound asleep, and for the first time Harry asked himself how he really felt.

Draco Malfoy: his nemesis turned secret lover. Could he actually _love_ this man? Could he see himself picking up and leaving Ginny, his loving and oblivious wife, for him, were he to ask? 

It would definitely cause many fucking problems if he did. 

But why would Draco ask? People loved other people without the need for reciprocation all the time. This was Draco’s problem, not his. Harry squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. Why did Draco have to _say_ it? He could have just admitted his feelings for Harry in his mind and… And what? 

It would have come out at some point, Harry knew it. It always did. He thought of Severus Snape and his mother. He wondered if Lily and James had lived, whether Severus and his mother would have had an affair like he and Draco were having. Would Lily have left her husband, the father of her child, for him?

Harry poured himself another drink wishing he could just forget.

Draco stirred and rolled over, casting an arm out to the side where Harry would usually be lying. Harry watched his hand open and close before he raised his head.

‘Harry?’ he mumbled sleepily.

‘I’m here.’

Draco turned, squinting in the semi-darkness. ‘Are you all right?’

Harry shrugged, taking another sharp gulp of whiskey. 

‘Want to talk about it?’

‘Not really.’

Draco sat up, gazing at Harry with an easy grin on his face. ‘Come back to bed, then.’

Harry stared at him, his body responding the way it always did. He just had to think of Draco’s face sometimes and his cock would get hard, often at the most inopportune times, but it made one thing perfectly clear to him: this wasn’t love, and it had to end now. He cared too much about Draco to let their affair continue under false pretences. A deep ache entered his chest when he thought of not seeing Draco anymore. _Out of sight, out of mind, Harry._

‘I can’t. I have to head back home, and you should too. Go back to your wife, Draco.’

Draco stared in confusion for several long moments, and then slowly, the look of dawning realisation spread over his features and his face went pale. Harry’s stomach turned over.

‘You heard me say it?’ Draco whispered.

Harry teetered on the edge of denying it, but he couldn’t ignore a direct question. ‘Yes.’

Draco swallowed hard, his eyes flickering down to the carpet, a flush spreading across his chest now. 

‘That wasn’t the way I would have chosen for you to hear it, Harry.’

Harry gulped down the rest of his whiskey. ‘I don’t know why I had to hear it at all. I thought we’d agreed that this was just for fun, no strings attached and all that. What happened?’

Draco continued to stare at the floor. ‘Everyone else in the world can love you, but I can’t?’

Harry got up and started to pace, anger now licking his insides. It all came back to this, did it? ‘That’s not good enough. What did I do? When did it change, and why the fuck didn’t you end it?’

Draco looked up at him sadly but said nothing.

‘Answer me!’

Taking a shaky breath, Draco replied very softly, ‘That time you got hurt and I--’ he paused, swallowing again. ‘I saved you.’

Harry stopped. ‘What? Four years ago?’

‘Yes.’

-.-

Draco Malfoy had been a Healer for a long time, and he’d chosen to specialise in emergency and trauma because he loved the rush of adrenaline; the way he could control his heartbeat and his reactions when faced with the balance of life and death on his treatment table.

There were hundreds of thousands of texts written about the human heart, both magical and Muggle. Why was it, Draco wondered, that there was none (and he’d checked) on how to heal the daily ache he felt when he thought about Harry? Something had changed for him, and he couldn’t stop it. Not even when he reminded himself of the loving family he had at home.

‘Sir?’

He’d tried not to feel what he was feeling, tapping into his Healer training and removing all emotion. It was just sex, after all; a biological need. It was healthy.

‘Healer Malfoy?’

He frowned. _Stupid Potter, always getting the better of you._

‘Healer _Malfoy_?’

Draco looked up in surprise at the mediwitch who was trying to get his attention. 

‘I’m so sorry. What’ve I missed?’

The mediwitch, Baxter, gave him a slightly withering look and he blushed.

‘You’re needed in Trauma Three. Young witch swallowed a bottle of Befuddlement Draught by mistake. She’s speaking nothing but Latin and keeps trying to take her robes off.’

‘Well, the required antidote for a whole bottle could kill her. She’s going to have to wait it out. Put a Locking Charm on the door and keep an eye on her. We’ll reassess in an hour. The effects of the Draught don’t usually last long.’

‘Yes, sir.’

 _Damnit._ Well, if that was all the distraction he was going to get for the day… Draco pulled a face and resumed his brooding, leaning against the department’s reception desk as he stared off into space wondering what Harry was doing at that moment.

Sixteen hours, twelve emergency cases, and one very embarrassed naked young witch cured of her Latin ramblings later, Draco had changed out of his hospital robes and into regular Muggle clothes. He rather fancied a walk through London in the nice weather after all his heart-aching.

He was literally about to walk out of the hospital when the doors to Emergency had flung open and several mediwizards burst in surrounding a stretcher. Draco’s heart sank when he saw the red Auror robes. It sank even further when he heard the name ‘Potter’. Two more red-clad Aurors appeared through the doors, pale and spattered with blood. 

Fuck.

Draco looked around. The Healer in charge for this shift, Bates, had attended medical school with him and would listen...

‘I need clearance now,’ he growled at Bates. It was against hospital policy for a Healer to continue to practice once his or her shift was over.

Bates looked like he wanted to refuse, but from the look on Draco’s face, it seemed, he agreed. They followed the mediwizards to the nearest treatment room. Harry was covered in blood and gore, and it continued to soak darkly through his robes. The mediwizards were busy trying to get Blood-Replenishing potion into Harry’s system quickly before he bled out.

‘What’ve we got?’ Draco asked, his brain kicking into emergency mode. He’d seen plenty of banged up Aurors and Hit-Wizards before, this was nothing new. 

‘Entrail-Expelling and Bone-Crushing Curses. We managed to get most of his organs back in, but he passed out from the pain and blood loss ten minutes ago - help didn’t make it in time to stop that. He’s not responding well.’

Draco pulled out his wand and quickly cast diagnostics. Both of Harry’s femur bones were in splinters, his left radial and ulnar bones looked like powder, and his skull was cracked along each suture. _Fuck_. If they didn’t heal him quickly… Draco didn’t even want to think about it.

‘Vitals?’

‘Heart rate is low, Healer Malfoy. He’s losing blood fast - Blood-Replenishing isn’t working quickly enough.’

He and the other Healers cast the last of the counter curse spells, and checked his IV potion port. Even if they worked, Harry was going to have to be laid up for a few weeks, taking potions to re-grow bones and whatever organs had been compromised. Hopefully infection would be avoided - the last thing Draco wanted to do was remove limbs from Harry Potter…If he made it through. Draco pushed away the shock he felt looking at Harry’s pale skin, whiter almost than the bed sheet he lay upon.

‘Come on, Harry,’ Draco murmured.

They waited their eyes on his vitals which were displayed on the wall.

‘Healer, maybe we should --’

‘No, any more spells could kill him. Push twenty more BRP.’

They watched and waited. Ten minutes, twenty minutes passed.

‘If his vitals don’t improve soon,’ began Bates.

‘I know. Just wait, he’s a fighter,’ Draco said. He had slipped his hand into Harry’s, waiting for it to warm up.

Slowly, very slowly, Harry’s vitals began to improve - first his heart rate and pressure, then his oxygen levels.

Draco watched his face which was regaining better colour. Then, Harry blinked and his fingers twitched in Draco’s hand.

Draco breathed out, feeling weak. _Thank God._

‘Harry, can you hear me?’

Harry looked up at him for a moment and then grimaced in pain.

‘Ouch,’ he muttered.

Flooded with relief Draco bent and pressed a kiss to his lips. ‘You scared me.’

Harry froze and the proverbial light clicked on in Draco’s head.

Oh, shit. _Shit!_

He stood up straight again, his eyes still on Harry’s and quite unable to face the rest of the Healers who had all gone silent.

Harry chortled softly. ‘I hope you kiss all your patients like that, Malfoy.’

Draco tried to laugh it off. ‘Only when they can cheat death as many times as you have. I do apologise, Potter. My emotions got away from me when I thought of my next article for the British Journal of Healing.’

He turned to Healer Bates who was looking at him with total confusion.

‘You’ll let me know of his progress?’

‘Of course. Er, may I speak with you outside?’

After making sure that Harry was being looked after by the associate Healers, Draco followed Bates outside.

‘What the fuck was that, Draco?’

Draco couldn’t look him in the eye as he said, ‘We’re old friends.’

‘Right. Malfoy, I’ve known you a long time - and Astoria.’

‘Look, report me if you have to, just leave my family out of it. It was an emotional response to a tense situation. Inappropriate, I know, but if you knew Harry Potter’s penchant for surviving, you’d understand.’

‘I’m not going to report you. I’ve just never seen you react that way to anyone _ever_.’

‘Potter has always been a pain in my arse. He couldn’t die on _my_ table after everything I’ve seen him come through.’

Bates still looked apprehensive. ‘I think you should go home now, Healer Malfoy. I’ll get a message to you of his progress in a few hours.’

‘Thank you.’

When Draco got back to the hospital the next day, he headed straight in to check on Harry and found the room overrun by Harry’s family. The children were playing on the floor and Ginny sat in a chair beside him, holding his hand and calmly reminding the children to ‘please be careful near Daddy’ - a concept they were clearly unused to by the way they romped.

‘Hey, Malfoy,’ Harry said. Draco winced along with Harry when the littlest one, the girl, prepared to jump on his lap. 

Ginny whipped out her wand in a flash and levitated the child mid-jump and landed her not altogether gently on to the floor.

‘I said, don’t jump on Daddy. He’s hurt.’

‘Sorry, Mumma,’ said the little girl. She was quickly distracted by the toy Quidditch set her brothers were playing with at the foot of the bed.

Ginny looked up at Draco, smiling a little guiltily. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Sometimes it’s the only way.’

Draco shook his head. ‘I totally understand and I’ve only got one.’ He gestured to the younger of the two boys who looked so much like Harry, green eyes and all. ‘About his age.’

Harry looked better, though very bruised. He would have to have a word with Bates about why that fantastic stuff the hospital had bought from George Weasley hadn’t been used on him yet.

‘How’re you feeling today?’ Draco asked as he checked on Harry’s vitals.

‘Bit like I got run over by the Knight Bus,’ Harry said.

Draco cast the spells to check the condition of Harry’s organs and bones. They were mending well; his bones had almost regrown, and his heart and liver functions were normal. His kidneys, a slightly more delicate organ, would need more time. Draco estimated he’d have to be there for another five days.

‘I suppose there’s nothing to be done about the food?’ Harry asked when Draco told him.

Draco laughed. ‘We’ll see.’

He bid the family goodbye after promising he’d be back to check in later in the day.

Harry was alone and asleep when Draco got the time to visit again. He was glad to see the bruise paste had been applied and had worked. Harry looked a little more like himself now save for being hooked up to IV ports and lying in a hospital bed.

Draco sat down in the chair Ginny had been in and took Harry’s hand. He sighed sadly. Why did this have to happen? He’d been just fine with their arrangement up until last week, and now, faced with almost having lost Harry he found he didn’t think he would be able to continue living if he had. It was utter fucking madness.

‘Hi.’

Harry had woken up and was looking at Draco.

‘Hi.’

Draco’s heart ached and he squeezed Harry’s hand. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday; I shouldn’t have let myself do that. I’m just really glad you didn’t die.’

‘You can kiss me again now, if you like. Visiting hours are over, aren’t they?’

Draco laughed softly, fondly. ‘Don’t encourage me. You’re still broken and I won’t be the one responsible for hindering your healing.’ 

‘All right, but after. Cheating death makes one extremely aroused.’ 

‘After, I promise. You can choose where.’ Draco kissed the back of Harry’s hand and got up to leave.

‘Draco, thanks for sticking around to save me. Bates told me your shift was over when they brought me in.’

Draco shrugged and smiled at him. ‘You did it for me that one time, thought I’d even us out.’

Harry smiled crookedly making Draco really feel to break his resolve and get into bed with him and snog him senseless. This was _not_ good.

‘I’ll see you, Harry.’

‘Can’t wait.’

-.-

Draco looked up at Harry from where he sat on the bed, his heart thudding sickeningly, shaking. Harry had begun to pace again.

‘For four _years_ , Draco? Why didn’t you tell me?’ Harry sounded broken.

‘I don’t know. What difference would it have made?’

‘We could have ended it before it got out of hand. Before you felt the need to whisper it to me when you thought I was asleep. How many times, Draco?’

‘Once like that. A thousand times before in my head.’

Harry’s brow was furrowed, his eyes bright, as though he were going to cry. Draco had never seen him cry before.

‘Why would you do this to yourself?’

Draco didn’t answer. He couldn’t, not when he was already down, admit that any part of Harry was better than no part. It was pathetic, he knew. He’d always known Harry was much better than him; and Harry was always honest.

‘Do you still fuck your wife, Harry?’ Draco asked. 

‘What? I’m not answering that!’

‘Why not? If you still enjoy fucking your wife, then we can end this and you can go back to your quasi-heterosexual ways and indulge in the odd wank over some naughty homo magazines when the mood strikes. No harm, no foul.’

‘Why are you being such an arse?’

‘Why are you avoiding the question, Harry? It’s very simple. This began because you were interested in what it was like to fuck a man, right? You thought me attractive; thought it was worth the effort to meet with me twice a month. Don’t you still feel that way?’

‘Draco, I can’t very well continue this knowing you’ve got feelings for me! That’s not fair.’

‘Then answer my question. Do you still want to fuck your wife?’

Harry stared at him angrily, but didn’t answer.

‘You’re a fucking coward, Harry.’

‘What do you want me to say? That I want to leave my wife and be with you? You’ve got a family too in case you’ve forgotten.’

'Harry, I'm prepared to give up everything for you. Can you say the same for me? Are you willing to give her up, to risk everything, for true happiness? For what _you_ really want, and not what everyone expects?'

Harry was silent. But what did Draco really think would happen? As though from some sappy romance novel, did he think for one minute that Harry would grin crookedly at him and say 'Yes' before falling into Draco's arms? No. Harry had made up his own mind.

'Look, Harry, that was very unfair of me. I shouldn't have asked that of you.'

'It's all right,' Harry murmured.

'No, it's not. It's all wrong, actually.'

Harry tried to smile at the feeble joke.

'I think I should go,' he said softly. He began to collect his clothing from the floor, and paused to look at Draco before going into the bathroom, as if he wanted to say more.

'I won't be here when you get out,’ Draco said.

'Okay.'

'Look after yourself, Potter.'

'You too, Malfoy.'

Harry closed the bathroom door behind him and it was all Draco could do not to fall apart. He collected his own clothing and dressed quickly, making sure nothing was left behind. He didn't want to give Harry an excuse to come and find him to return a lost galleon or cuff link.

It was still dark when Draco got to reception. The night staff all smiled pleasantly at him.

'Do you know where I could go for a drink?' he asked.

'Our rooftop bar is open all night, sir.'

'Thank you.'

Draco took the lift to the thirteenth floor and sat outside sipping a tumbler of the scotch Harry had been drinking in the room, and when the staff began to clear up and pack the chairs and stools away, Draco cast a quiet Notice-Me-Not spell on himself and conjured more whiskey.

He sat there on the rooftop until the sun began to rise; the glass buildings in the city glowed with the fresh light of the new day.

_It’s the first day of the rest of your life, Draco. What are you going to do with it?_

-.-

Harry had tried hard to act as normal as possible around Ginny after coming home from his last night with Draco, but her constant questioning of whether he was all right was wearing him down. She’d tried to get him to talk to her about what was bothering him, and he’d forced himself to have sex with her just to shut her up. It was despicable and wrong and he hated himself for it. It had been vicious and rapid coupling, and when it was over Harry had raced to the bathroom to be sick.

He didn’t touch her again after that, choosing to sleep in James’ room. 

She confronted him one more time. ‘Harry, whatever it is, just tell me. You owe me that at least.’

Draco’s words replayed themselves in Harry head. _Are you willing to give her up, to risk everything, for true happiness?_

‘I’m in love with someone else,’ Harry said quietly. 

She stared at him for many long minutes before asking, ‘Another woman?’

Harry shook his head.

‘Oh.’

‘I’m sorry that I can’t make us happy anymore,’ he said.

James and Lily had decided to come home for the Easter holidays while Al chose to stay at Hogwarts with friends. It had been torture, those two weeks, pretending that everything was all right for them.

Ginny moved out the moment the children went back to school, though she and Harry had agreed that they should at least keep up appearances when they had to until they sorted themselves out. She didn’t want the children finding out through a third party. The rest of the family hadn’t been completely oblivious, but Harry managed to keep himself together and answered their questions as best he could, betraying nothing.  
It was late afternoon several weeks later when Ron came bursting into Harry’s office at the Ministry

‘Harry, I don’t know what the hell’s the matter with you these days, but there’s only one way to cure it. We’re going to the pub. Now.’ Ron had already taken Harry’s coat off its hook and was holding the door open. ‘No time to waste. It’s Friday.’

It was in fact the _fourth_ fourth Friday since Harry and Draco had last seen each other. The last thing Harry felt like doing was sitting in a pub all night, drinking and silently lamenting over his problems. He wanted to be on his way to the hotel where Draco would be waiting; he would drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness, before camping out between those long thighs until Draco was incoherent and coming down his throat. Then, they would talk. Maybe Draco would take him back, maybe he wouldn’t, but at least Harry could tell him how much he missed him. 

‘Harry, I’m not going to ask you again.’

Harry looked up at Ron and sighed. The least he could do was get drunk enough not to notice the constant ache he felt in his chest.

‘Fine.’ Harry grabbed his cloak from Ron and followed him out of the Ministry and out into the street to the Dancing Dirigible, an all-wizard pub.

After two pints and a steak and ale pie, Harry admittedly felt a bit better about life.

Ron was telling him all about the new joke products that he and George were about to launch at WWW and Harry had just started on his third pint of Guinness when a flash of white blond caught his eye. It happened a lot, and he was used to taking a second look, but it never turned out to be the person he wanted to see… until now.

It was like seeing a mirage in a desert. After so many weeks of what Harry could term starvation, he couldn’t help the sharp gasp that escaped him.

‘I know! I told George there was no way we could market it for that pittance, anyway, after that I-- Harry, are you all right?’

Draco had taken a seat near the front of the pub with his back to Harry and Ron’s table and was consulting the menu. He looked rather thinner than before; tired. Harry’s heart ached for him. This must have been much worse for him than for Harry and he felt ashamed for being so stupid.

‘Harry, are you even listening?’

‘What?’ Harry turned his attention back to Ron.

‘Who’re you looking at?’ Ron turned around in his chair. ‘Oh. Didn’t expect to see Malfoy out and about what with his divorce going on and everything.’

‘ _Divorce?_ And you didn’t think to tell _me_?’ Harry hissed

Ron raised an eyebrow and took a draught of his ale. ‘Thought you’d know by now. Rosie told us over Easter that was why Al stayed at Hogwarts, to be with Scorpius. He’d just found out before the holiday and didn’t want to come home.’

 _Fuck!_ Harry conceded that he was in fact a complete and total idiot. 

‘I didn’t realise. Al didn’t say why he was staying, and the others, well, we didn’t have a lot of time to talk. Doubt they would have known too much about it anyway. Al doesn’t like to gossip.’

‘The really interesting thing I found out from Hermione, who incidentally has a friend working on their divorce, is the reason behind the divorce. Apparently Malfoy’s been carrying on with someone for ages. Word is it was a man.’

Harry’s insides turned cold. Employing his iron constitution honed by his years as an Auror, Harry asked: ‘Any idea who? That’s quite serious.’

‘Nah, Malfoy didn’t say on the record.’

Harry didn’t imagine for a moment that Draco would have betrayed him, but it was still good to hear it for himself. Harry continued to watch Draco surreptitiously over Ron’s shoulder, trying to keep one ear on Ron who was still nattering on about the shop.

Draco ordered a drink, and Harry noticed his eyes kept flicking towards the door and knew instantly he was meeting someone. Harry hoped it was Astoria.

It wasn’t.

Draco’s face broke into a smile and Harry turned his gaze to the door. An attractive young man had just entered the pub and was making his way to Draco’s table, his smile matching Draco’s.

Harry could feel the jealousy and anger begin to bubble within him. So, Draco had moved on, had he?

‘Mate, you okay?’ Ron asked.

‘Fine,’ Harry growled, grabbing his glass and taking another gulp of ale. He was losing his cool. He had to look away.

He couldn’t. He watched as the young man sat down beside Draco and… _kissed him!_

The pint glass in Harry’s hand exploded. Glass skittered across his face and the lenses of his glasses and Harry jumped off his stool, shocked by his own reaction.

‘Fuck!’ Ron screamed. Harry saw his hand fly to his left eye and a streak of blood on his cheek.

‘Ron!’

‘I have glass in my fucking eye!’

‘Oh, God.’ Harry looked up to see half the staff rushing towards their table. Over their heads he saw Draco stand up and look directly at him for a moment before he and his companion hurried over.

‘Stand back,’ Draco said, command clear in his voice. ‘I’m a Healer.’ 

In another circumstance, Harry would have been extremely turned on, but Ron had a piece of glass in his eye and it was Harry’s fault.

He stood back, mesmerised as he watched Draco work. Ron was swearing quietly under his breath, grey and sweating as Draco’s spells carefully worked the piece of glass out.

‘It’s torn his retina,’ Draco said to the other man with him. ‘Can he wait til we get to the hospital?’

‘Yes, but we need to hurry.’

Draco turned to Harry. ‘Will you get in touch with his wife, or should the hospital do it?’

‘No, no. I’ll do it. I’ll meet you there to see that he’s all right.’

Draco smiled slightly. ‘He might have to stay a few days, but don’t worry: Jonathan is one of the top Optical Healers in the country.’

 _Jonathan? What a stupid name._ Harry really needed to grow up.

‘Thank you. I’ll go to Hermione and bring her to the hospital.’

The man called Jonathan performed a spell to stabilise Ron’s eye, by which time the mediwizards had arrived and within ten minutes, Ron was safely on his way to St Mungo’s followed by Draco and Jonathan.

Brushing off the Dancing Dirigible’s insistence that Harry was not to pay for anything, he covered his and Ron’s tab as well as Draco’s, and Disapparated to Hermione and Ron’s house.

After slapping Harry upside the head for probably blinding her husband, Hermione left for St Mungo’s with him. He could only be thankful she hadn’t asked what caused him to shatter the glass in his hand, and he hoped that Ron wouldn’t either.

Draco was dressed in his green Healer robes and waiting for them in the Trauma department’s reception. Draco spoke quietly with Hermione while Harry nervously hung back, and only followed when Draco gestured for her to go to the desk, presumably to sign treatment forms. He caught Harry’s eye for a moment and imperceptibly jerked his head towards the corridor. Harry followed.

‘How is he?’ Harry asked.

‘He’ll be all right. Worse comes to worst, he’ll have a magical eye like Moody,’ Draco said.

‘Bet he’ll love that. He’s already missing some fingernails and part of his arm. Lots for the kids to be proud of.’

Harry’s heart was beating so fast it hurt. He could smell Draco’s cologne in the narrow corridor; it was intoxicating.

‘How are you?’ Draco asked quietly.

‘I’ve been better. See you’ve been doing all right.’ Harry hadn’t meant for it to come out so accusingly, but he knew it had. ‘I’m sorry, that came out wrong.’

Draco looked at him for several long moments and Harry could see the pain in his eyes. ‘What did you want me to do, Harry?’ he asked quietly.

Harry didn’t know, but he definitely did not like seeing Draco with another man.

‘It’s your life, Draco. I’m sorry.’ 

Harry quickly excused himself to go to the loo. Once he’d relieved his bladder, he washed his hands and splashed cold water on his face. 

‘Fuck,’ he muttered. This was not how he’d pictured things to turn out and he only had himself to blame.

He returned to the waiting area and joined Hermione. Draco had disappeared.

‘Twenty-thousand galleons,’ she hissed. Harry’s heart sank as guilt flooded him. He knew Ron and Hermione were saving up to build their own home. ‘This Healer Milne better bring my husband out of this with better eyes than when he went in.’

‘Hermione, I-- I’m so sorry. I’ll pay, please don’t worry about it. It’s totally my fault.’

She glared at him, her eyes glistening. ‘I can’t let you do that. You still have three children to educate.’

‘Hermione, it’s all right. I have the money and I can’t let _you_ do this. I did it to him.’

‘What on earth happened anyway?’

Harry made a face. ‘It’s a story for another day, I’m afraid.’

Thankfully, Hermione let it go and Harry went to the reception desk to fill out the necessary paperwork for billing. 

Two hours of waiting and drinking some truly awful coffee later, Jonathan Milne and Draco came out to update Hermione and Harry.

‘I managed to save his eye,’ Milne said with a tired smile. ‘But he’s going to need lots of rest and a follow-up visit in a week’s time.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ Hermione breathed. ‘Harry said he might’ve had to get a replacement eye like Mad-Eye’s. I don’t think I could have dealt with that.’

‘We’ve put a patch and a stabilising spell on the healing eye, and he’ll stay here overnight. You can go in and see him if you like.’

‘Yes please,’ said Hermione. ‘Harry, will you come too?’

‘Of course. Thank you Healer Milne.’ Harry shook the young man’s hand.

Milne held his hand fast for a minute, studying his face. ‘You know, I could do something about your eyes if you’re ever interested. Myopathy is an easy cure. I expect you get tired of those glasses sometimes.’

Harry glared hard at him with his best Head Auror glower and, looking a bit frightened, Milne let him go.

‘Or not. You look very nice in them, Mr Potter,’ he said quickly.

Harry caught Draco’s eye in time to see the brief grin cross his face. He nodded at Draco and set off in pursuit of Hermione. He opened Ron’s door only to be greeted with a very angry: ‘What the _fuck_ , Harry?’

Harry sighed. ‘I know, I know. I’m sorry.’

-.-

‘Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you before you tried to blind me?’ Ron asked. He and Harry were on their way to St Mungo’s a week later for Ron’s follow-up with Healer Milne.

‘Maybe one day when I’ve stopped feeling the shame for doing it.’

Ron stepped through the St Mungo’s entrance and Harry followed. They were led to Healer Milne’s office where they only waited a short while for him to arrive.

‘Hello, Mr Weasley, Mr Potter.’ Harry noticed with deep satisfaction that the other man still regarded him a little too warily.

‘Mr Potter, this may take some time, so if you’d like to come back in about half an hour I should be finished.’

Harry looked at Ron who nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll see you in a little while then.’

He had every intention of going to Diagon Alley to meet with George at the joke shop to collect a few things Ron had asked for and chat with George. It had been ages since Harry had seen him. He was nearly at the door when someone called his name and he turned.

It was Draco. 

They stared at each other for several long moments before Draco closed the space between them and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Immediately his heart rate spiked. It had been so long since they’d touched and Harry couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him.

Draco led him outside of the building and into a small garden at the side of the hospital. It was beautiful there, full of shady trees above old stone benches and beds of brightly blooming flowers. In the early morning, it was quiet and empty of people.

‘How’s Weas-- I mean, Ron. How’s Ron?’ Draco asked.

‘Lots better. He’s still a bit disappointed that he didn’t get the magical eye.’

Draco laughed. ‘Well, there’s still time I suppose.’

Harry gazed at him. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sorry for hurting you.’

Draco stiffened his posture and backed away a step. ‘Harry, don’t. I… I waited too long for you.’ Draco’s voice was quiet and defeated. ‘I told myself you’d given up. I was moving on with my life. You can’t just show up like this.’

‘Draco, I can’t --’ he stopped short, collecting his thoughts. 'I can't stop thinking about you; I _never_ stop thinking about you.'

'Harry, we can't do this. You said --'

'Fuck what I said. I want you. I've always wanted you. I will always want you.'

‘You’re still married! I took the fucking risk, I made myself happy again. You can’t just decide all of a sudden that you want me back. As what? Your lover? Your convenient fuck?’

‘No! I want to _be_ with you, Draco. For as long as you want, however you want.’

‘Harry, no. I can’t go back to the way we were. Not after what happened.’ Draco turned to leave and Harry reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

‘I told her. I told Ginny.’ 

Draco stared at him. ‘When?’

‘About a week after we last met. She confronted me and I told her; I told her I was in love with someone else.’

Draco was frowning, his face very pale. He opened his mouth to say something, and closed it again. Then he said, 'Why should I trust you?'

'I've never given you a reason not to.'

Draco looked intently into Harry's eyes, searching. 

‘You made me happy, Draco,’ Harry said, taking a step closer to him and taking his hand. His heart was hammering, his body aching with need; the need to touch him, to be surrounded by him. 

Harry took Draco's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. He could feel Draco respond to him, inhaling sharply and kissing back.

‘Please,’ said Harry. ‘Please, let’s give it another go. A real one this time.’

Slowly, Draco smiled at him. ‘All right.’

-.-

Draco pulled Harry flush against his chest his breath stuttering with pleasure in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Harry turned his head and kissed him and Draco smiled.

'I love you,' he whispered in Draco's ear.

Life would never be perfect, Draco knew. There would always be questions, there were always going to be people in their lives who wouldn’t accept them. It would be a long road, but at least they would be together.

For now, however, Draco would be content with perfect moments like these.

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> If so inclined, please leave a comment here or at [LiveJournal](http://dracotops-harry.livejournal.com/272171.html). Comments are ♥.


End file.
